The Great New Year Bathroom War
by Cats070911
Summary: Expecting to work a double shift over New Year, Tommy has no plans for celebrating. That changes when Barbara's accident means they have the whole day to themselves. Warning: Ch 3 pushes the boundaries of the T rating. Happy New Year, world! And enjoy 2018.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** all usual disclaimers apply.

This is based on my recent personal experiences of some troublesome Australian invaders. I think the English equivalents are far more civilised... but that would not make for a good story. Events have been exaggerated and changed to protect the innocent, but you can assume Tommy's actions in the first scene bare a significant resemblance to those of my husband... Barbara's efforts bear no resemblance to mine of course.

* * *

Detective Inspector Tommy Lynley drummed his fingers on the top of his steering wheel. He checked his watch... again. His sergeant, Barbara Havers, could be somewhat erratic in the way she treated time, but this morning she was outdoing herself. He had been waiting outside her flat for over twenty minutes. He sighed. Enough was enough. Today was not the time to test his temper. He hated New Year's Eve, and this year they were rostered for a double shift that would mean they would miss the one aspect of New Year that he enjoyed - the midnight fireworks. A bad day was getting off to a roaring start.

It was unseemly, but he tooted. Loudly.

Tommy expected Barbara to come rushing out of the door, full of apologies, still pulling on a piece of clothing or trying to force her foot into her already-laced shoe. His annoyance instantly softened, and he smiled as he waited. She amused him when she was flustered and late. Barbara did not do vulnerable well, but he liked her softer side. He knew it annoyed her to be shown up as less than what she thought was his expectation. In reality, she always exceeded her job description - as a police officer, as a partner, and as a friend.

A minute after his reminder her door remained tightly closed. He took a deep breath. Patience was not one of his strong suits. He tooted again, this time letting his hand rest on his horn somewhat longer than was polite. Three doors in the block opened, and the occupants gave him looks ranging from disdain to veiled threats. Barbara's door remained stubbornly closed. This time his annoyance morphed into concern.

He counted to ten. There was a logical reason he was sure, but a sour taste began to rise in his throat. He hurried to her door and rang the bell. Inside he heard Barbara swear - loudly and explicitly.

"Barbara? Are you okay? It's nearly eight o'clock."

The door he was leaning against was pulled open in a violent sweep. "Sorry."

There was no hint of apology in her tone. Barbara's hair was pressed against her head on one side as if compressed as she slept. She was in a long pale blue t-shirt, or perhaps a short nightie, with a cartoon polar bear ice skating across a pond in pursuit of a seal. Tommy found his eyes drawn downwards to shapely legs he had never seen naked before. He felt the tips of his ears go red. He should look up. He knew that. Ogling was not what any decent man would do, and he prided himself on his decency. His eyes would not obey him, and continued to drink in the sight of her smooth skin and... what the heck? Barbara had on a pair of mid-calf khaki Wellingtons.

"Expecting rain?" he asked.

"I imagine so. That's probably the cause."

Tommy frowned but had trouble hiding an amused grin. "The cause of what? Did you sleep in those?"

Barbara looked down. Her face instantly turned puce. She pulled self-consciously at the hem of her nightwear trying to lower it. "This? Mmm." She looked up. "Now you're here you can help." She turned on her heels and rushed into her bedroom.

Tommy shook his head. The woman was mad, but a little madness lightened his life. He followed. "Help with what? You are... where did they come from?"

"Outside I presume. I woke up to find this."

Barbara's hand swept around her room. Covering every wall were trails of small ants. In the corners near the ceiling, they had established strong defensive positions covering all three surfaces in a mass of black.

"Good heavens."

"It's worse in here."

Barbara opened a door on the wall opposite her unmade bed and stepped into her bathroom. Ants covered every surface in a swirling mass of movement. Soldier ants marched defiantly up the vertical surfaces while others moved down lethargically as if returning, battle weary, from the frontline. Her pedestal basin was covered entirely with the little beasts. Trails led up into her medicine cabinet, and some ants seemed mesmerised by their reflections in its mirror. The toilet seat was up, and the ants had colonised it, many taking turns to drink from the bowl. The room smelt strongly of menthol. On the floor, two cans of insect spray lay as if dropped. No ants crawled over them. In fact, the inch space surrounding each tin was the only area not crossed by the ants.

Tommy stared at each surface in turn. The ants were everywhere. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Me either. When I woke up, there was only about a quarter the number. I sprayed them and thought they would die. Those did, but then more and more kept coming. They're like Napoleon sweeping across Europe."

Tommy turned and looked at her. It was an odd analogy, and he did not like to correct her about the historical inaccuracy of her claim and the fact that the French Emperor had fought a series of strategic battles rather than invade like the Mongol Hordes of the 13th century.

As he watched, the density of the ants increased. The seething black mass was now colonising the bedroom walls. Barbara beat at them with a plastic fly swat in a desperate effort to stem the flow.

"Barbara, do you have a vacuum cleaner?"

Without pausing her frantic swatting, she pointed to her hall. "In the cupboard."

Tommy found the cleaner and a power point. He switched it on and entered the battle. The hot air from the vacuum smelt vaguely of lavender. He assumed Barbara used one of those cheap carpet deodorisers that he hated. With grim determination, he ran the head over the trail of ants now heading for her lounge room.

Several thousand black bodies disappeared with each swipe of the cleaner's brush head. But then the ants rallied and organised their troops to evade his attack. Undeterred, Tommy focussed on his task. Slowly he managed to force the front line back. Salients of ants formed. He removed one bulge only to have another form on the opposite end of the line.

He could hear Barbara in the bathroom, now desperately hosing them with her hand-held shower spray. Trails of steam wafted an acidic scent of menthol and dead ants into her bedroom sending the ants into a frenzy. Many of them abandoned their fight with him and rushed back into the bathroom to help their comrades. He increased the rate of his hoovering, making smaller sweeps as he herded them towards the bathroom door.

"Die! Die you little bastards!"

He looked up to see Barbara stretching up with her water jet aimed at the ceiling. Ants fell in clumps, and black spray bounced off the walls. Barbara was sodden and speckled with ant bodies. Some were still alive, and she used her free hand to swipe at them. When she turned, her wet tee-shirt clung to every curve. Tommy's eyes settled on her breasts which stretched the cloth taut as they heaved up and down with her cries.

Tommy felt a stinging pain in his hands. A thousand sharp teeth simultaneously nipped at him. He looked down. The previously silver wand of the vacuum was black. He dropped it and beat furiously at his arms. The ants that had reached his hands made defiant runs to reach his sleeves. They tickled as they ran through the hair on his forearms. As he squashed them, dots of brown seeped through the cloth.

His hands and arms burned. It felt as if he had been sprayed with liquid fire. He ran to her kitchen and plunged his arms under the tap, flicking up the handle up with his chin. The cooling water soothed the sting. His shirt was ruined, but it was a small price to save his arms.

"Argh! Shi..." Barbara's anguished cry was cut off by the sound of a crash.

Tommy shut off the tap and ran back to Barbara's room. She was lying on the floor of her bathroom. Blood oozed from a gash on her forehead. The spray in her hand fountained harmlessly in the air while the ants began to cover her body.

His heart stopped beating. "Barbara!"

"I slipped."

He rushed over and lifted her head off the tiles, wiping blood and ants from her face. "Come on. We're getting out of here."

He pulled her backwards into her bedroom and lifted her onto her bed. He picked up the hose which was now sweeping across the floor in erratic curves and killed the water. It was no defence, but he shut the bathroom door in a vain attempt to restrict the invasion.

Barbara was sitting holding speckled tissues against her cut. Her body was shaking. Tommy was not sure if it was the shock, cold or just a result of her sobbing. He gently pulled her to her feet and began to walk her out. He grabbed her coat from the hook near the front door and wrapped it around her shoulders. Her bag was on the floor. He picked that up. "Are your keys in here?"

"Yeah."

He opened the door and helped her through then slammed it shut, abandoning her flat to the invaders. Barbara leant on him as he helped her to his car. "I'll take you to A and E."

"No. No hospital."

"You might have a concussion."

"No hospital."

Tommy started the car and pulled away from the kerb. His partner could be stubborn, and stupid. He would get her to his townhouse and call his physician and insist he come over.


	2. Chapter 2

Barbara woke with the scent of Tommy's aftershave on her pillow. She frowned. Had she been dreaming about him? Nothing unusual in that, but this was the first time her dreams had a smell associated. She opened her eyes.

"Hello."

Barbara jumped.

"Tommy!" He was sitting beside the bed scratching his arms. His face broke out into a huge, cheeky grin. She looked around. This was not her room. Not her bed. "What the hell? Where am I? And why are you here?"

"You're in my bed."

Barbara pulled the sheet over her head. She hurriedly felt for clothing. She was in a tee-shirt, but instead of her polar bear, it had a logo of a US baseball team. She could not feel any underwear. She groaned. Then she became angry.

Her head reappeared above the covers. "Did you drug me or something?"

"No, the doctor did."

"Doctor? Why did I need a doctor? And why don't I have any underpants on?"

Tommy's face went red. "Don't you? You undressed yourself, I swear."

"Explain. Now!"

"When I went to pick you up this morning you had been invaded by ants. I tried to help, then you fell and hit your head. I brought you here and called my doctor. You became a little hysterical about the ants, so he gave you a sedative. I gave you one of my old tee-shirts. You undressed in the bathroom. I would never take advantage of you, Barbara."

"Ants! Were they real? I thought they were a dream." She sunk back on the bed and felt her head. "My headache is real. My flat, it's ruined."

"Would you like a painkiller? The doc left some for you."

Barbara nodded. "Yeah, ta."

She looked around while Tommy fetched her tablets and water. The room was typically Tommy - starchy, old-fashioned yet dignified and classy with just a hint of mystery.

"Here you go."

Barbara gratefully swallowed the tablets. "I should go. Thanks for helping me."

"You are not going anywhere. The doctor said you were to stay in bed for at least 12 hours."

"But my flat."

"I have taken the liberty of using your key to send around exterminators. They have fumigated your flat, but I promise they won't paint it."

Barbara laughed. It was hard to be annoyed with him when he was so thoughtful. "That's one blessing I suppose."

"They said you can't live there for at least a week."

"A week?"

Tommy looked at her in a way that she found unnerving. "Maybe two."

"Sir! No. I have no clothes. We're supposed to be on duty... it's New Year's Eve."

"I phoned Hillier. We are not due back for three days."

"How did you swing that? What did he say?"

"He was furious at first, but when I relayed our adventure, I think he did himself an injury laughing. He referred to it as The Great New Year Bathroom War."

Tommy was still scratching; then Barbara noticed something. "Why are you rubbing half a lemon all over your arms?"

"The doctor said it was one of the best ways to reduce the itch. You don't seem to have been affected, but I appear to be allergic to the little blighters." He showed her his arms. They were red and swollen with hundreds of tiny red welts.

"Oh, Sir, I'm sorry."

"So we are invalids together."

"Not my plan for today. I was hoping we would get to see the fireworks."

"We still could. It's not too far to walk if you're up to it."

"Yeah, a naked walk on New Year's Eve should go unnoticed."

"Not by me," Tommy mumbled. "Fear not, I sent Denton out for some clothes. I hope he remembers underwear."

"Oh God..." Barbara pulled the covers over her head again and groaned.

Tommy grabbed the sheet and pulled it down. "Don't be embarrassed. I didn't think you would want to wear my clothes all week."

"No, definitely not. But how will he know my size?"

"Your coat and tee-shirt gave us a clue, and Helen always said most women are one size bigger around the hips. And with your curves, I thought that was likely. So I asked him to buy accordingly."

"My curves? Sir!" Barbara wanted the bed to open up and swallow her.

Her boss turned a deep shade of red. "There's nothing wrong with your curves, Barbara. Far from it. You have wonderful..." Barbara glared at him. "Legs," he added shyly.

Barbara closed her eyes and groaned.

* * *

Tommy decided he should retreat before his team were called to his house to investigate his demise. He was not afraid of her wrath, but he was concerned that his desire to climb into bed next to her would lead him to do something Barbara would find hard to forgive. His mind had trouble ignoring the phrase 'I don't have any underpants on.'

"I'll leave you to get some rest. Denton will be back soon. Then I've given him a few days off. I thought you might be more comfortable without him here."

Barbara nodded. "Yeah, thanks. I guess my insurance might pay for a hotel."

"No need. It will be more relaxing here. I'll stay in the spare room."

"No, you should stay in your own bed. I should stay in the other room."

"I'd prefer if you were in my bed, Barbara."

They both stared at each other trying to pretend what he had just said had no other possible interpretation.

"Right," he said finally, "I'll go downstairs and catch up on some work. You get some rest."

Tommy leapt out of the door before either of them could get into more strife.

* * *

Her fantasies about being in his bed had never extended to being there alone. She closed her eyes, hugged his pillow tightly and allowed her mind to wander.

It was nearly seven o'clock when she woke. Four Marks and Spencer bags sat on the chair by the bed. There was a glass of water on the bedside table next to a small packet of crisps and a block of Cadbury.

She smiled as she opened the chocolate and ate two squares. Her boss was always thoughtful. She opened the bags to find jeans her size. They were the more expensive ones she never bought, but they looked like they would fit perfectly. The next bag contained a new pair of fancy trainers and two pairs of socks. Three long sleeve loose shirts and a comfortable jumper rounded out the clothes. In the last bag were three pairs of navy hipster briefs and three matching bras. She checked the labels and shook her head. They were precisely her size, and she suspected Tommy had looked at more than her coat to determine her size.

Once dressed she ventured into the hall. She found him downstairs in his kitchen. Sitting on a stool at the bench, he had his arms plunged to the elbows in two plastic buckets.

"What are you doing?"

"Freezing my ant bites to reduce the swelling."

"Show me."

"They're not too bad." He lifted his arms. Red skin was stretched tightly and looked like it would crack open. Angry welts had small black lumps in the centre. It looked painful.

"Not painful? They look terrible. I'll phone your doctor. What's his number?"

"No, don't he gave me some cream. I just can't apply it."

"Why not?"

Tommy shrugged his arms. "I can't bend my elbows enough."

"And you let me sleep while you were in pain? Where's the cream?"

"Over there. Near the sink."

Barbara retrieved the cream then patted his arms dry with a hand towel. "Tell me if I'm hurting you."

* * *

Tommy closed his eyes. The cool cream relieved the itch, but her touch ignited flames far deeper within him. He pulled his arm away.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?"

"No. The opposite."

"Opposite?" Barbara cocked her head and looked at him.

"You have no idea do you?"

"About what? Applying cream? I think I can manage that..."

"About what you do to me. How you make me feel. All afternoon I've been sitting down here with my hands in buckets of ice water, and it still didn't cool me down. Do you have any idea how much self-restraint I needed not to go back up there?"

"I don't understand."

"All I could think about was you lying up there with no underpants on in my bed, and me being too cowardly to go up and climb in with you so I could tell you that I..."

Barbara stared at him open-mouthed. He could tell she was trying to speak, but nothing came out.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Or that way. It makes me sound as though it's just physical, but it's not. I love you, Barbara."

Tommy watched her as she picked up the cream and began to slather it on his arms. This time she rubbed it on faster and with less tenderness. He suspected he was in for one of her tirades. She finished and screwed the cap back on the tube.

"How long does this stuff take to work?" she asked him in a disturbingly normal tone.

"Not long I suspect."

"You should rest."

"Barbara? Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"Rest. We can talk about it later."

Barbara shooed him off the stool and hunted him up the stairs and into his bedroom. She pointed to his bed. "Do you need help getting out of your clothes?"

He nodded. Barbara bent down and undid his shoes and helped him slip them off. With her thumbs against his skin, she removed his socks. His shirt followed, and he closed his eyes and groaned loudly when her hand slid under his singlet and began to lift it. He bent forward so she could pull it gently over his arms.

"Barbara?"

She said nothing but unbuckled his belt and agonisingly slowly, unzipped his fly. He stepped out of his trousers and stood in his trunks, unsure whether to be embarrassed or pleased that she was watching the growing bulge at the front.

"Lie down, Tommy."

He obeyed. "Are you joining me?"

She smiled. "Do you want me to?"

"Yes." His voice broke like a teenager.

"The doctor said we should rest."

* * *

Sorry, but I owed Tess a final cliffhanger for 2017. What will happen? All to be revealed next year. *wanders off grinning*


	3. Chapter 3

Tess: this chapter could so easily have an alternative or extended version... As it is, I have pushed, maybe overstepped, the boundaries of T ratings for you, just as Barbara torments Tommy.

* * *

"We can always rest tomorrow," Tommy said.

"Or we can rest now."

Tommy looked at her, trying to figure out what was running through her mind. Usually, he could tell, more or less, but she had put up a barrier, and that worried him."I can't rest if I think I have upset you or made a complete ass of myself."

"Neither."

"So?"

"I love you, Tommy. But you already know that, don't you?"

He smiled at her. "I hoped, but you are very good at disguising your feelings, Barbara."

"Am I?"

"Yes. I tell you I love you, and you calmly undress me and put me to bed without any clue about what happens next. You saw my reaction." Barbara's eyes flicked down to his groin. His body responded instantaneously, reinforcing his desire. For the first time, she smiled. It had a wicked quality that made him grunt as his trunks became painfully tight. "You can still see it."

"I can."

"So, will you join me?"

* * *

Barbara turned on the bedside light and extinguished the bright overhead light. She walked to the windows and drew the blinds. All the time, Tommy's eyes never left her. She stepped back to the bed and stood above him. Kicking off her shoes, she sat on the bed just out of his reach to remove her socks. She had not intended to tease him, but the way his eyes almost hung out of their sockets, she could not resist.

"Barbara..."

"How are your arms?"

"Fine."

She raised her eyebrows. "Show me."

He extended his arms. "They're not as itchy."

"Or as swollen. That's good. The cream must be working."

"Can we forget my arms, please? I only care about them because I want to wrap them around you and hold you close. I want to kiss you. Make love to you. This is torture, Barbara."

"That's the intent."

"To torture me? Why?"

"So you understand what it is like to wait for the person you love to be ready."

"I've been a coward. I should have told you before. I'm sorry."

Barbara nodded. "I know."

His eyes focussed only on hers. "So very, very sorry."

Barbara lifted her arms and removed her jumper. Tommy's eyes darted between hers and the top button of her shirt. With one hand, she pulled it from her jeans and slowly undid the buttons. Leaving it open and knowing Tommy could see her bra, she put her hands on her hips.

He smiled and scrambled up the bed so that his shoulders rested against the wooden bedhead. "Oh, sweet, sweet torture."

Barbara moved her hands down the front of her thighs to her knees, bending slightly forward that her shirt hung open and her breasts rose and fell slowly with her breathing. Tommy was grinning from ear to ear. He braced his hands flat on the bed, as if trying to stop them touching her, or maybe himself.

She stood and unbuttoned her jeans, wiggling so that they were loose on her hips. Shrugging her shoulders back, first her shirt, then her jeans, fell onto the floor. Even in the dim light, she knew the white lines of her scars would shine. Tommy's eyes clouded when he saw them, but not with revulsion, as she had feared, but the collective memory of that moment.

"When I thought I might lose you..." His voice cracked with pain.

"You won't lose me, Tommy." She leant over and kissed him on his cheek.

"Good. I couldn't bear that." His hands snapped up onto her hips as he turned his face searching for her lips.

Barbara closed her eyes as his mouth found its target. The kiss was gentle and loving. Tommy reached up and stroked her face. "I love you, Barbara Havers."

She moved away from him. "I love you too. You said you wanted to see midnight fireworks. We should get a couple of hours sleep."

"I'd rather make love to you."

"Not yet. All in good time."

With no intention of removing any more clothes, she slipped into the bed beside him, carefully avoiding his sore arms.

* * *

Despite his physical discomfort, Tommy also wanted to prolong the night. They would both regret hastily satisfying their bodily needs. Making love for the first time should be a total experience, mind, body and soul.

Barbara snuggled into his front, pressing the full length of her body against him and wrapping her arm around his waist. He tucked his tumescence neatly into the curve formed where his thighs angled against hers. Gloriously hard nipples pressed into his chest and he could feel the dampness from her underpants against his belly. Knowing she wanted him just as much was as soothing as it was exciting.

"This feels nice, Barbara."

"Mmm, it does."

This time their kiss was long and deep. Their hands wandered over the backs and thighs of the other, twitching and kneading as their kiss became fiery, before fading back into a loving exchange of years of missed opportunities.

"We should get some sleep. Roll over, Tommy."

Without argument, he did as instructed. As frustrated as he was in one way, Tommy also felt at peace. Barbara had admitted she loved him. She had been right, he had felt it, maybe known it, but to hear her say it meant so much more. He could wait until she was ready. He drifted to sleep a contented man.

* * *

Tommy woke when Barbara climbed into bed beside him. "Where did you go?"

"Only the bathroom."

"What time is it?"

"Half past eleven."

"We should get ready if we're going to the..." He stopped speaking when she cuddled against him. This time he could only feel her skin against his back. "Barbara?"

Conscious that they were no longer covered by a sheet, he wondered if he should try to roll over or wait for her lead. The answer quickly came as she ran her hand over his side and down to his trunks. Her thumb hooked under the band, and she began to edge them off as her hand worked around his waist. Tommy helped by lifting his hips so she could tug them down. When he tried to turn, she pushed him gently back. "Not yet."

Barbara's hand ran down his leg dragging his prison with it. She threw them in the corner. Unrestricted, he quickly reached the level of excitement he had a couple of hours earlier. "Barbara..."

"Stay there."

Barbara kneeled over him and kissed his spine at the base of his neck. Her breasts brushed his back. Goosebumps raised on his skin when she laid her hand flat on his stomach and stroked his belly softly. He tried to disguise his moan by breathing through his nose.

Slowly her hand drifted down, stopping to circle his belly-button. "Barbara, please... let me kiss you."

Barbara moved her hand to push his shoulder lightly, forcing him onto his back. He smiled up at her. Her face was flushed, and she was biting her lower lip. He made no secret of letting his eyes wander over her naked body. "You're more beautiful than I ever imagined."

She smiled shyly as she looked down. "You too. I always wondered what you looked like without a towel."

Tommy laughed. Not noticing or caring if his arms still itched, he seized her waist and pulled her down. He kissed her hard. She responded and upped the ante when she ground her hips against his stomach.

"What about the fireworks?"

Barbara laughed. "Oh, you wanted to watch the public display? I always had something more private in mind."

He grinned at her and ran his fingertips up her spine. His grin became hungry when she closed her eyes, looked up and groaned loudly. "To hell with the fireworks. This is a much better way to spend New Year."

Barbara smiled as she twisted her hips. His eyes shot open as she lowered herself slowly and bent down for a kiss. Outside cars horns sounded and the distant echo of Big Ben striking midnight filled the gaps between their heavy breaths.

"We can make our own fireworks. Happy New Year, Tommy."

"Oh... yes..." Tommy pushed his hips up. "Happy New Year. I love you, Barbara."

"I know. I never thought I would be so happy to have been invaded by ants." She kiised him savagely. "Don't you think we should start letting off some crackers?"


End file.
